Chapter 10 Eli
TEN
ELI
The Easter holidays mean two weeks off from the school grind, and I’m not complaining. I’ve still got the grounds to keep tidy and a few odd jobs lined up, but it’s nothing that can’t wait until the afternoons.
This morning, Ant’s text comes through just after seven.
Ant: You up for coffee?
It doesn’t take me long to reply.
Me: Always.
When I get to his place, he’s already got the front door open and the smell of fresh coffee drifting out. But it’s the look on Henry’s face that catches me first—eyes puffy, hair sticking up on one side like he’s had a restless night.
Ant meets me in the kitchen, handing me a mug. “Didn’t sleep much,” he says quietly, glancing towards the lounge. “Last night he was excited about seeing Owen. This morning… not so much.”
I take a sip, weighing my words. “You want me to hang with him while you go to the airport? Might take some pressure off.”
Ant’s brow furrows like he’s not sure if that’s asking too much or just what he needs. “You sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I did,” I say, but I keep my tone easy, not wanting him to feel boxed in.
“I’ll ask him.”
Before he can even finish walking into the lounge, Henry’s nodding like it’s the best idea he’s heard all year. He all but pounces on me in the doorway, arms wrapping tight around my middle. “Can he, Dad? Please?”
Ant chuckles. “Looks like it’s a done deal.”
Henry lets go, and then he’s already heading back to the sofa with his cereal, the morning cartoon blaring softly. Ant and I stand there for a moment, both of us more moved than we’re saying out loud.
“Guess that’s settled, then,” I murmur.
He smiles—soft, grateful—and before I can think too hard about it, we’re hugging. It’s not long, but it’s warm, steady. The kind of hug that lingers after you’ve stepped away.
Before he leaves, we talk through the timing. “I’ll only be an hour, maybe ninety minutes tops,” he says. “Straight up to the airport and back after collecting Owen.”
I nod, aware of the unspoken part—that means I’ll be here when he gets back, and I’ll be meeting his ex.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. “It’s not an issue. He’s always going to be in Henry’s life.” Though, saying that, it’s been five months since they’ve seen each other. I know he only calls once a week, and the calls aren’t long. Not that I say that aloud.
Ant’s expression flickers at that, but before he can respond, Henry calls from the sitting room, “Where’s Owen going to sleep?”
The name lands heavier than I expect. He’s never mentioned his other dad around me, now that I think about it.
The fact that he calls him “Owen” catches me in the chest. Not because I think he should call him anything else—that’s between him and Ant—but because it’s a reminder that Henry knows exactly where everyone stands in his life. There’s no blurring of lines for him.
Ant looks faintly surprised by his son’s question, and we head into the lounge. “Spare room,” he tells his son.
I already knew that, and I get it. He’s here for a week, and Ant wants Owen to spend as much time with Henry as possible.
But then Henry catches me off-guard, looking straight at me. “Are you okay with that?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, you and Dad are boyfriends, right? So, like… it’s weird, isn’t it? For Owen to be here when they’re not together anymore.”
My jaw drops. I shouldn’t be surprised—he’s a sharp kid—but still. I glance at Ant because this is his to answer.
And he doesn’t deny it. “We’re adults,” he says gently, “and we can handle a bit of awkwardness. This visit is about you, mate. That’s the most important thing.” Then, after a beat, he asks, “Are you okay with us being boyfriends?”
Henry rolls his eyes. “Obviously.” He picks up his cereal again. “Just don’t kiss in front of Owen. That’d be weird.”
Ant chokes on a laugh. I try not to grin, but the relief bubbling in my chest makes it hard to hide.
He glances at the clock, then back at me. “I should get moving if I want to get there on time.”
“Go,” I say. “We’ll be fine.”
Henry waves from the sofa without looking away from the TV. I walk Ant to the door, and he hesitates a beat before stepping onto the verandah.
“Thanks,” he says. “I mean it.”
“You don’t have to thank me for wanting to spend time with your kid.” I grin. “He’s good company.”
That earns me one of those warm, almost shy smiles I’ve started to look for. Leaning in, he kisses me, his soft lips pressing against mine. I sigh at the contact, no longer feeling the need to look over my shoulder, worried about prying eyes.
The kiss is brief but settles the tightness in my chest.
“Be back soon,” Ant calls out. Then he’s gone, and as I watch his car pulling away down the street, I’m left feeling lighter and nowhere near as uneasy about his ex coming to town.